Last Anniversary
by SiriusMarauderFan
Summary: Ron plans a romantic anniversary for him and Hermione even while he fears it may be their last. one shot.


**Author's Note:** For Fire the Canon, as a prize for placing in the Mother's Day Competition. Hope you enjoy!

Also written for…

Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition. _Team/Position:_ Montrose Magpies, Chaser 1 _Task:_ Write about the line 'Wondering if it's me you're seeing' from "I Don't Want to Miss a Thing" by Aerosmith _. Prompts:_ spoon, (picture) a broken wine glass, (opening line) Everything was going wrong.

 **Last Anniversary**

Everything was going wrong and it was all Bill's fault.

There had been a barbeque at Bill's house, and it was just after Hermione had gone to help Fleur with the children that Bill turned to his youngest brother and asked "What are you and Hermione doing for your anniversary?"

It was an innocent enough question but it still took Ron by surprise. He was aware of his impending wedding anniversary but there hadn't been a lot of preparation on either of their parts.

"I don't know if we'll be doing anything." He took a thoughtful sip of his lemonade. "Maybe we'll go to a restaurant or something."

Bill had shaken his head disappointedly. "This is your fifth though, isn't it? That's a pretty big milestone to blow it off like that."

"We're busy," Ron defended. "It was a miracle we were both able to get the day off to come here today. 'Mione's been working late every night; I was out of town for five days last week. We're probably going to be too tired to do anything but eat."

He did not mention that he wondered for how many more years he and Hermione would celebrate together. Nor did he voice the fears of what she might be doing during her supposed late nights at work.

"It doesn't matter if you don't do something fancy, but you need to show Hermione that it's a special day for you. Trust me. Fleur would kill me if I didn't do anything for our anniversary."

Despite Ron's fears, his brother's words had plagued Ron for days before he finally snapped and rushed over to the Burrow on his lunch hour to borrow a few of his mother's favorite books.

The plan had begun with an elaborate homemade dinner, which he was sure Hermione would appreciate, but it grew over the week leading up to the anniversary, until he was spending every inch of his spare time agonizing over a detailed checklist of chores.

He would not let the day go by without making some attempt at romance.

:-:

Hermione had to work late on their anniversary. It didn't come as too much of a surprise given her recent schedule, but was strange to wake and find her gone earlier than usual. Ron was nonetheless grateful for the extra free time, getting straight to work after breakfast.

Housework was the first task that needed tackling. Their combined hectic work schedules left little time for home cooked meals or cleaning and the house was becoming somewhat reminiscent of Fred and George's old room.

Ron started with the dishes piled in the sink, washing each one by hand with the intention casting a drying charm over them afterwards. That was when things started going wrong.

He had read the book very carefully and made sure to follow the instructions, but instead of heating the plates, the charm let out a blast of fire that set the cabinets alight. Repairing the destroyed dishes and burned countertop took even longer than putting out the flames.

Next on the list was laundry. How Hermione worked with those monstrous machines Ron would never know, but he managed to get everything scrubbed and up on a line in the garden without incident.

The rest of the house was relatively easy after that. Bed made, litter box cleaned, brooms polished and stored away. Then it was off to the market for food.

Hermione loved chicken, and Ron was thankful for that since if seemed to be the easiest thing to cook short of eggs. He planned to make her rosemary chicken breast and roast potatoes and carrots and a pumpkin soup, and try his hand at making a chocolate cake from scratch. He'd even thought to get a bouquet of her favorite flowers. She like to tell everyone it was orchids because she thought her actual favorite – roses – were too cliché.

Most of the chicken burned. By some miracle Ron managed to spare the last piece from the same fate and put it aside for his wife. The carrots were overcooked, the potatoes were undercooked, and the soup turned out too salty. As for the cake … Ron wasn't sure it was supposed to look like a pile of dung, but that's what it was.

He was just finishing setting the table, dropping the last spoon into place, when the clock chimed eight.

Normal work hours would've had Hermione home by five-thirty at the latest, but she'd been hard at work crafting a bill to enforce payment for hired elves and she usually trudged through the door around eight.

At 8:15 Ron started getting nervous. He'd been too busy to think for the last few hours, but all of his fears were flooding back now that he had a moment to breathe.

The fact that they'd barely spoken or seen each other for the past two weeks had not gone unnoticed by him. It was the worry underlining everything he had done that day; the fear that it was all for nothing.

Their work schedules had always clashed badly. Five years of talk of transferring or resigning hadn't changed the fact that they were still in the same stressful jobs with separate days off and little pay. Somehow they had made it work before; taking time off when they could and making the most of the time they did get together, but not recently.

Hermione found him pouring wine in the kitchen. She startled him, silent as the cats she adored, and a glass fell to the floor, spilling red wine as he stumbled back.

"What are you doing?" she asked, stifling a giggle as she watched Ron pull out a rag to mop up the wine.

"I was _trying_ to make a nice meal for you," he huffed, motioning to the small kitchen table that held their dinner under warming charms. "Happy anniversary, by the way."

She smiled, leaning against the counter and removing her cloak and shoes. Ron helped her to the table and poured more wine.

"You did … all of this?" she asked, admiring the misshapen cake.

"I tried." He slumped into the chair across from her. "I hope it's alright. Everything was going wrong and I-"

"It's perfect," she assured him. She tried to smile but it didn't reach her eyes, which Ron decided looked tired.

He wasn't sure how he hadn't noticed the tiredness before. The bags under her eyes had been there for weeks, but the look in her eyes was new. Usually all he could think of when he looked at her was what she thought of him. Did she still love him? Did she still want to be with him? Did she think of someone else when she looked at him? Sometimes it felt that way.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked suddenly, breaking him from the downward spiral his mind was on. "Are you alright?"

"I miss you," he blurted out, taking her by surprise. "I feel like I haven't seen you in months."

"I miss you, too," she admitted, playing with the petals of onto the roses in the center of the table. "I'm sorry I've been working so much lately."

"It's not like I'm not at fault. I just get worried sometimes."

"About what?"

Ron sighed, looking down at the dodgy dinner he'd made. "That maybe I'm not enough for you."

"You honestly believe that?"

He shrugged. "You're too good for me, 'Mione. I've always known that."

"Is that what today is about? You're trying to impress me?"

"No. I did all of this because I love you, and I wanted at least one more night with you before…"

"Before what?" She looked amused.

"Before something goes wrong."

This time she did laugh, loud and without any hope of covering it up. She was still laughing when she stood up from the table and left the room. She returned a moment later with her work bag. It was usually full of boring files and applications. Ron never went within a foot of it.

She pushed her plate aside and put the bag down in its place.

"I haven't been completely truthful with you lately. Some of the nights I told you I was working, I was actually out of town, trying to track some people down. Other nights I was making up for the time I took off work to track down other people."

"What are you talking about? Who were you going to see?"

She pulled a photograph from the bag and handed over to her husband.

Ron recognized the picture immediately. It was the Chudley Cannons line-up from 1976, the closest they'd come to the World Cup since their win in 1892. Every inch of the photograph was familiar to him, except for the black scribbles all over it.

"What is this?"

"They're autographs. That's why I've been so busy. I had to find the members of the team from 1976 – which was not easy, by the way. Lola Winslow is living in the middle of nowhere now."

Ron stared at the photo in silence for a few more minutes before he finally looked up at Hermione in awe.

"You did this for me?"

She smiled. "Happy anniversary, honey." She walked around the table to plant a kiss on him. "Now, the next time you think our marriage is failing, talk to me about it. Promise?"

"Promise," he said, pulling her onto his lap. "Can I hang this up in the living room?"

"Not a chance."


End file.
